


Harry Styles One Shots

by swritings



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:05:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14856738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swritings/pseuds/swritings
Summary: Get close and personal with Harry Styles in these one shots.





	1. Save it for later

**Author's Note:**

> Harry pretends to be your boyfriend to a family reunion after you ranted to him about how prying your mum could be.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” you muttered once again as you approached the street leading to your home, fingers tightening their grip on the steering wheel.

“No need, love. S’gonna be fun, right?” Harry’s ring clad fingers found your knee and squeezed gently, eyes watching you carefully. 

“You haven’t met my family,” you scoffed but relaxed slightly as his thumb brushed reassuring figures onto your jeans.

“I’ve met yeh and it can’t get worse than tha’,” he grinned.

“Hey,” you exclaimed as you reversed into the driveway, “Be glad that I can’t hit you right now.“ 

"Just kidding, love. I chose t’be here, and I would much rather spend time here with yeh than alone at home.” You bit your lip at his words, sincerity coating every sentence.

“Save the cheesiness for later. You’ll have plenty of time to showcase it when my family starts asking questions.  _When did you meet? How did you ask her out?_ ” You rolled your eyes, mocking the voices of your family. 

“M’ready. S‘good practice if I ever get a role in a rom-com, yeh know? Pretending to be someone’s boyfriend so they escape the wrath of their family, classic.” He clapped your thigh twice before leaving the warmth of the car and stepping outside into the blowing wind. You shivered at the cold air he let inside, taking a second more to enjoy the calm before the storm. 

Harry had kindly agreed to play your boyfriend for an extended weekend at an annual family reunion your mother held. 

You loved your mother, truly you did, but she had a habit of prying into your love life. She was always asking if you had found a boyfriend, which you hadn’t, and then she would try to set you up with someone she knew. You were sure that’s what would happen and with the whole family around, even more, questions would be sent your way along with pitying looks. You couldn’t take it anymore, and after ranting to Harry, he volunteered to come along. He was truly the best friend one could ask for.

After a deep breath, you followed him outside. 

“When,” you said helping him lift the bags out the back. “When you get a role in a rom-com,” you clarified after seeing his confusion.

He hip-bumped you choosing to let his bright smile be the answer. You had always supported him through thick and thin, and having you by his side had meant everything when times got hard and he felt worthless and useless.

“Ready?” He asked once you stood in front of the door. His hand found yours and squeezed tightly before raising it to knock on the door.

It didn’t take long until it was swung open, she had probably been watching you, knowing her, since you arrived.

“Welcome home, dear!” Your mum exclaimed pulling you into a tight hug. “And who’s this handsome young man,” she said, eyes gazing appreciatively at Harry.

“M’Harry, "he said accepting the hug she gave. You shook your head at her waggling eyebrows as she mouthed  _nice catch_. This was what you talked about.

"Alright, mum,” you interrupted eager to leave, “We better put our things away.”

“Oh, right,” she said, “I’ve prepared your room, and changed the sheets into something more mature,” she laughed.

“Mum!” you groaned embarrassingly.

“The sheets?” Harry asked.

“Don’t ask,” you mumbled, even more, eager to leave now.

“Sorry, well the bed’s all ready for the two of you.” She said pointing towards the stairs.

“For the two of us?” you blinked. It hadn’t occurred to you that you would have to sleep in the same bed.

“Yeah? Is that a problem?” She asked eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

You quickly schooled your expression into a normal one, hoping she didn’t catch the slip-up, “No, no, just surprised you would allow it.” You hoped she bought it. If the jig was up already it would be an even worse weekend. 

“Ah, well you’re an adult now. Besides the guest rooms are all filled up.”

“Thank you, Mrs Y/L/N.” Harry took control of the conversation, hand resting on your back momentarily before he reached to grab your bag for you.

“Please call me Y/M/N, dear. Mrs makes me sound so old.” she laughed watching as you ascended the stairs. “Have you eaten yet?”

“We grabbed something on the way,” you answered.

“Okay. Oh, and Aunt May and Robert will arrive later, too,” she added.

“Alright. Thanks, mum!”

You lead the way to your childhood bedroom. It had been years since you had been back. Your mum mostly visited you in London when your schedules allowed, where you would make use of London’s shops. 

Walking into your old room brought back memories of your childhood. You remembered spending time in front of the tall mirror you had begged your mum to buy, just so you could model outfits. The desk still stood where you’d left it, however, the old computer was gone. The thing that made you cringe the most where the poster covered walls. 

“So?” You turned around to face Harry. He hadn’t stepped inside yet, standing in the doorway taking the room in.

“She was nice. Don’t know what yeh have been going on about,” he set the bags down next to the bed, eyes still glued to the walls.

“Ha, don’t get used to it.” you sat down on the edge of the bed watching him move around. “I’m sorry, I assumed we would have an extra bed. I hope you don’t mind.” You smoothed out the white covers, suddenly nervous.

“Hey, s’nothin’ new, right? We’ve slept in the same bed before, what’s a few days more?” He lifted your chin, catching your eyes.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“I didn’t know you had such a big crush on Justin Timberlake,” he left your side pointing to various posters hanging on the wall in the formation of a heart.

“Shut up!” You threw a pillow at him, your nerves gone but instead replaced by embarrassment. 

” _What goes around…_ “ he started singing using the pillow as a mic, arms swinging. He held his hand out prompting you to join him. You shook your head stubbornly, fine to watch him make a fool of himself. 

He didn’t take no for an answer and pulled you up himself. He swung you around and soon you found yourself laughing and following his random dance moves with joy. 

"You’re crazy, Harry.”

“What’s life without a little crazy,” he grinned twirling you around to the nonexistent music. 

***

The rest of the day went by quickly and because Aunt May and Robert also arrived late, the questions were dodged. For now.

Your mum seemed to notice how tired the two of you also were, and also stepped back. This was new. Never before had she been one to lay off the questions but you weren’t about to ask why. 

You greeted them both and introduced them to Harry. “You two should pop off to bed get some rest after that long drive,” your mum intervened as soon as introductions were made.

“Let’s go drink a cup of tea,” she gestured to aunt May and Robert to step into the next room.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” your aunt smiled. 

Harry’s hand grabbed yours, fingers intertwining easily. It was a good thing your relationship always had been built on touch, it didn’t seem too far a stretch to believe that every touch wasn’t platonic. It was a natural part of your relationship, something his past girlfriends have found quite odd. It didn’t mean anything, though. 

“Goodnight, and once again thank you fo’ letting me stay here, Mrs Y/L/N.” he smiled gently.

“My pleasure, dear. Call me Y/M/N,” She warned him with a glint her eye. He only grinned, bowing his head slightly.

“Night mum,” you kissed her on the cheek before stepping back.

“You found a good one,” she whispered in your eyes, blush falling promptly on your cheeks after that comment. You gave her a warning look which she only smiled widely at.

“Night, kids.” With that, she left the room to join your aunt and Robert.

“Let’s go,” Harry’s hand came to lay on your back guiding you back upstairs.

The entire time spent in the bathroom getting ready for bed was spent anxiously anticipating what was to come. You didn’t know why you were so nervous to share a bed with Harry. He was right, it wasn’t the first time, but it would be the first time sleeping together with no alcohol running through your system.

“It’s just Harry,” you muttered to yourself, finally leaving the bathroom. “It’s just Harry.”

He was sitting under the covers, his shirtless body on display as he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone. 

Hoping he hadn’t caught you staring at his arms, you got under the covers, too, albeit clumsily.

“Yeh alright?” he questioned as he watched you tumble about, making the covers lie the way you wanted. “Here,” he reached over, fingers brushing against yours as he helped smooth it out.

“Thanks,” you muttered lying down trying to ignore the heat from his body.

“No problem, love.” He set his phone down, making himself comfortable. A hand reached over, pulling you close to him. You knew he was a cuddler but it still surprised you. “Much better,” he mumbled, a playful tone to his voice.

“Alright, lover boy. Save it for tomorrow.” You did your best to sound annoyed, hiding your small grin in the darkness of your room.

“Don’t say it s'not better.” He pinched the side of your hip gently.

“Alright, alright,” you grinned widely now, “Get some sleep, you’re gonna need it for the inquisition you’ll be put through tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait,” he whispered sleepily.

“Night, Harry.” You closed your eyes allowing yourself to relish in the warmth coming from his skin, setting it aside to the room being slightly chilly.

“Night, love.”


	2. Wouldn't want to annoy you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re hit by the pain of a migraine and end up saying hurtful things.

Your head was pounding. It felt like there were people with hammers inside going to town on your skull, smashing and banging as loud as they could. You tried to go to work but didn’t make it any farther than the bathroom as even the small movement of leaving the bed was enough to make you vomit, barely even managing to make it to the toilet.

You sent your boss a quick email, eyes squinting in pain from even the low light, before falling into an unrestful sleep. You had never experienced a migraine this bad, you’d only had minor headaches that normally went away after eating, sleeping or both, but it seemed today would be the first exception.

You had just woken up, the headache dimmed but still present, when you heard the front door open from your position in the kitchen.

“I’m home, honey!” His loud voice pierced through your skull as he walked into the kitchen, shedding his jacket on a nearby chair, shuffling across the floor towards you. He was humming like he always did after a day spent at the studio but today his voice didn’t sound like sweet honey but rather knives stabbing you. 

You turned to grab the newly finished kettle and began pouring the boiling water into your mug, tuning out his presence.

“We finished another song today,” he exclaimed proudly, kissing the back of your head, an arm winding against you to pull you close for a second, on his way to grab a glass of juice.

“Great,” you muttered, carefully blending the milk and tea together without clanking the spoon on the sides. Hopefully, this would help would help soothe or at the very least be calming to you.

“Oh, I have to tell you the funniest thing that happened today. So, Mitch…” he began, not noticing the look of discomfort on your face as you still hadn’t turned to face him. He continued talking in the same volume, and no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to tune it out. You weren’t one to normally yell so even you were surprised by your outburst.

“Shut up! I can’t take it anymore. For once in your life, please shut up. Stop talking, stop singing, it’s fucking annoying!” you shouted and he ceased his talking.

“Thank you.” You grabbed your mug leaving the kitchen, eyes rolling in annoyance and pain. “God.”

You hadn’t spoken to him like that before but it didn’t even occur to you what you had said, all you cared about was getting some silence and maybe escaping to a place where you couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t hear anything.

So you left the kitchen without noticing Harry and how his eyes had welled up during your little spat.

***

It took you a few days to notice something was up with Harry. Your migraine was gone but so it seemed your boyfriend was, too. He hadn’t really spoken to you in the last days and the house was awfully quiet, even when he was home.

“Hey, babe. What are you working on?” you joined Harry on the couch where he was in the midst of scribbling down words.

“A new song,” he muttered back, not lifting his face to even glance at you but keeping his eyes glued to the pages even though he had stopped writing.

“Oh? Can I hear it?” It never ceased to surprise you just how talented your boyfriend was and his songs were a nice insight into what went on inside his mind.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to annoy you,” he said.

“Sorry?” What did he mean by that?

“Oh, you know… don’t want to annoy you with my singing or even talking,” he mumbled biting his lip as he once again avoided your eyes.

His words brought back memories and you finally understood why he was acting distant and weird.

“Harry… I’m so sorry,” you whispered grabbing his free hand, “I didn’t mean what I said that day. I had a migraine and was out of my mind in pain and I’m sorry for saying that. Please, forgive me?” You placed a few small kisses on his knuckles, relaxing when his fingers intertwined with yours.

“I love hearing you sing. It’s my favourite part of the day when I can hear you singing along to the radio…” you finally managed to catch his eyes and were surprised to find tears in them.

“Hey, hey,” you reached out and gently caressed his cheek, drying away a few tears that managed to escape.

“Sorry,” he mumbled embarrassed, wiping a hand over his face and turning his head away.

“Don’t be sorry. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me,” you said softly hoping he knew how awful you really felt. You hadn’t realised he had been internalising the words you had said in the heat of the moment and vowed to never let yourself say anything like that ever again.

“Wanna hear it?” he said, his way of saying he had forgiven you.

“Yes, please.” You gave him a soft smile as he picked up the guitar sitting beside the sofa, strumming softly before opening his mouth.

You knew everything was going to be alright between the two of you despite the slight miscommunication. It hurt to know he had been thinking those hurtful words had been truthful and you made it your mission to make sure he knew how much you loved his singing. How much you loved him.


	3. Worrisome thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You worry that Harry might forget about you once he goes on tour

In less than a week Harry would be leaving to go on the European leg of his tour and you would be all alone in your apartment. It’s not that you weren’t proud of him for creating a successful career with millions of adoring fans across the planet but you still felt insecure at the thought that he would meet wonderfully fascinating people who in turn might make him regret being stuck with you. This was still a fairly new relationship, after all.

You knew it was silly but the thoughts still wouldn’t leave your head. You didn’t want to become clingy, so you prepared yourself by starting to shy away from his attention in the upcoming week since you knew it would probably be scarce once he was gone. Touring would take a lot of time and you knew he was a busy man who also wanted to write songs and attend meetings while on tour - you had warned him not to overwork himself but that was all you could do. Harry was quite stubborn when he wanted to be and you didn’t want to be an extra worry. 

To prepare yourself you lost yourself in your work and only replied to Harry’s texts whenever you remembered. He was starting to sound worried but you quickly reassured him that work was being rough and that you would see him soon. You had planned a date night, the day before he was due to leave, and you knew it would be hard to see him but even harder when he was away so you powered through until it was time for you to leave for his.  

You rang his doorbell timidly, aware that you needed to pick up your act or he would notice something was wrong.

“Hi, love,” the door swung open and you were met by your excited boyfriend whose grin seemed to light up his entire face. He immediately wrapped you in a tight hug and even if your mood was lifted by his smile, you still felt tears brimming in your eyes at the smell of him. You would miss him.

“I missed you, feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, love,” he muttered into your hair as his grip tightened, kissing the top of your hair. “Come. I’ve made us dinner.”

He took your hand, leading the way into his dining room that he had decorated with candles and roses.

“Wow. This is gorgeous,” you commented as you took a seat, taking in the delicious smelling food and the thought he had put into the entire evening.

“Just for you, princess,” he smirked taking a seat, too. You gave him a smile before you both dug in, updating each other on your weeks. Harry had gone to a few last minute fittings for a few new suits that had been sent his way and had also met up with a few friends. You told him about work, skidding over it quickly, wanting to hear more about him rather than your own boring life before it was too late. It was nice to see him and you realised it had been a mistake to avoid him, now that he would be gone for months… or possibly forever.

After dinner, you ended up on the couch cuddling as some insignificant movie played on his tv screen.

“Will you tell me what’s up with you or do I need to force it out you,” he said nonchalantly, fingers still lightly playing with the strands of your hair.

Your entire body tensed and you willed it to calm down enough to make your words sound believable. “Nothing’s up.” You kept your eyes on the screen waiting for his answer.

“Y/N,” he warned. You only shook your head, denying his claim again which only made him sit up, pulling you up with him, so you sat face to face.

“Hey, you can tell me,” he tried to coax the words out of you, hand coming up to hold your cheek, thumb caressing it lightly as his green eyes caught yours.

“It’s stupid…” you shrugged, looking down.

“Nothing you say will ever be stupid,” he said firmly before softening his tone, “Please?”

You sighed deeply before deciding to speak, knowing he wouldn’t give up until he got what he wanted. Damn his stubbornness.

“It’s just… you’ll go on tour and I’m…” you paused swallowing, “Well, I’m worried you’ll forget about me.”

He didn’t answer and you didn’t dare look into his eyes, instead choosing to continue and try to explain your thoughts.

“I know you’ll meet loads of fantastic people and… we’ll probably not speak a lot, given your busy schedule, and…” You were cut off by Harry pushing your head into the crook of his neck, holding you tightly against, “Harry?”

“Don’t ever think that,” he loosened his grip on you and pulled you out, determined green eyes meeting your insecure ones. “No matter who I meet, fantastic or not, I’ll still be thinking of you at the end of the day. I don’t want anyone other than you… and even if my schedule is busy, I’ll make time for you-” he cradled your head in his hands carefully, thumbs nearly reaching your mouth giving the size of his fingers. “-because I love you.”

This was the first time he had said those three words, but they did exactly what he wanted, no,  _needed_  them to do, reassure you that he was madly in love with you and that no one could steal him away from you. That would be impossible when his attention at most times would be on you, even if you weren’t around, much to everyone’s annoyance.

“I love you,” you said, a tear falling down as you registered what he had just confessed. His lips met yours in a soft kiss and even if it tasted slightly salty from your fallen tears, it was perfect. It was just the two of you sharing a loving kiss in his apartment revelling in the moment before he would be flying off but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was his hands tangled in your hair, his scent sweeping over you and the sweet taste of his lips.


End file.
